Special Nights
by VirgoMaiden
Summary: Once in a while, when the crew is asleep, coffee is made and pastries are tasted, and Sanji and Nami are able to talk openly, without any sort of illusions between them. Collection of oneshots. Sometimes continuous. SanjixNami.
1. Night One: Mikan With Cream

**A/N:** A new story. I should be working on others. I suck.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the OP universe. E. Oda does.

--

**Special Nights**

**Night One: Mikan with Cream**

**By VirgoMaiden**

--

Sanji liked nights where the dishes were done early, Nami had bossed the crew enough for one day, and when the rest of the crew had their attention focused on something else. On those special nights, few and far in between, he would make hot chocolate with a small shot of whisky (or tangerine juice; it depended on what the two were in the mood for.). Paired with chocolate shavings and cinnamon cookies it gave the perfect atmosphere.

And on those nights, they talked.

--

The first night they did this, it was the night Nami came back and officially joined the crew, after freeing her home from Arlong.

There was a definite silence as he finished the dishes, and he dried the last few, looking over at the clock as he did so.

Nine o'clock. A bit late to join the crew, but…

The sound of the door opening interrupted him from his thoughts and he looked over to the door, surprised. His face soon broke into a wide grin and his heart skipped a beat. _Nami_. He hadn't really talked to her before, but he was incredibly smitten with her, seeing as she was just his type: strong, tall, and confident. The fact that she needed no help with her figure was even better.

It was quiet for a few minutes as she rummaged around in the storeroom. She apparently hadn't noticed that he was in the room as well, but he really couldn't blame her; he had been in her life for about three days, after all.

She emerged, polishing a tangerine on her shirt, preoccupied with getting the little spots off of it.

"I can fix it up," he said, without even really meaning to.

She jumped, dropping the tangerine. It rolled around on the ground, stopping at one of Sanji's infamous black boots.

"I can't let you eat this," he chided. "It's dirty. Let me fix it up."

She opened to protest, but Sanji (who was not going to have a potential "moment" with Nami be let go of so easily) held up a finger, cutting her off. "Do you like cake or cookies better?" he asked.

She bit her lip for a moment, and it seemed that _no, _she did not want to eat with an "ero-cook" as that idiot marimo put it, but she nodded.

"Cake, but I'd rather have diced _mikan_. You can handle _that_, right?" she asked, almost as a challenge.

He grinned. "Of course," he replied smoothly. With a pop of his hand, the _mikan_ the redhead loved so much flew into the air, landing in his other hand expertly. She wasn't impressed, obviously; it would take a lot more than some fancy handwork, he knew, but he was willing to go the extra mile.

He ran the tangerine under the cold water, recoiling slightly at the sudden temperature change. Nami, in all of her radiant beauty, pulled up a chair from behind him, the wooden legs scraping against the worn floor. While Sanji had only been part of the crew for a few days, he was quickly learning every nook and cranny of the kitchen he now commanded, and that included every creaks the worn floor made.

"Maybe it play it up a bit," he murmured, drying off the fruit. It glistened, and he took a knife from the chopping block. With a few deft strokes, the fruit was laying open in a star fashion, whipped dream layered on top.

Nami looked it over with slight distaste. "You don't get the concept of 'simple,' do you?" she questioned, taking the tray and spoon from him. "Never mind," she added quickly. "You'll learn."

Sanji just smiled and pulled up a chair to the table, alongside Nami. She stared at the treat for a moment, as if unsure, before finally dipping the spoon in the light cream. Her eyes widened at what he knew would be a light and airy sensation, but she quickly regained her composure, plucking the spoon out from her lips and straightening up a bit.

"Do you like it?" he asked, more from habit than a need-to-know. He had grown up taking other's opinions as well as not giving a crap; Zeff had taught him to take a little from both, although the kid had frequently 'messed things up,' doing a little _too _much of what the "Customer wanted," Zeff would spit. "Look, eggplant," he would lecture, "do your thing; if you need to listen to others in order to cook, than you're not a cook at all!" Then, not ten minutes later, he would lecture the kid _again_ for being too "daring."

Between fighting the urge to scowl and to keep his friendly smile plastered on, a grimace, twisted oddly for one, spread over his face. Nami stared at him, spoon still in her mouth.

"…Am I missing something?" she asked worriedly. "Or is it necessary to praise you in the span of half a second?"

"Neither," he grunted. "What do you think?"

She paused for a moment, twirling the spoon around. Contemplating…

"Delicious," she decided. "The cream is amazing; like air. But you need to start understanding that when I say 'simple,' I mean 'simple.'"

Sanji nodded, taking mental note. "So no spoiling you?" he asked.

Nami grinned. "Of course not," she scoffed. "I never said that! Just…when I say something, I mean it."

Sanji grinned, somewhat wolfishly, and leaned in. "So if I asked if you had, say, _feelings_…"

Nami turned her head, acting (or quite possibly actually) insulted. "I'd say, and mean, no. Trust me, Sanji-kun, you're not my _type_. I'm not easy, Sanji. Learn that now rather than later."

Sanji pouted. "Aw, Nami-san," he wheedled. "You don't mean that, do you?"

She nodded, now sticking a small piece of tangerine in her mouth. "Yes, Sanji, I do. You're not my type. I doubt that you could ever be."

A smirk now came over his face and he leaned back into his chair. "You said 'doubt,' Miss Nami-san… You _doubt_ that I _could_ be your type."

She shot him a disdainful look. "Yes, I doubt you could handle it; Why? Reading between the lines? That certainly won't help you now."

"Au contraire," Sanji said, standing up and picking up her empty plate. He ran it under some warm water before drying it on a handy dishtowel. He faced her as he did this. "That certainly _will _help me. I believe that I can become the type of person that you want me to be."

She rolled her eyes. "Baka," she muttered, crossing her arms and staring at him defiantly. "No one can become my type of guy. Just ask the _countless_ others that I've dated."

He didn't take the bait, although a small part of him surged inside at the idea of his Nami-san being with someone…_else._ Instead, he turned and put the plate back into the cupboard, the spoon accompanying it. It looked lonely, and he made a small promise to fill it up with useful dishes; his tools of trade. He turned back to her, a cheeky smile on his face now. "I'll put those there in case you want to do this again sometime, okay, Nami-san?"

She obviously took this as a move and gave him a disgusted face. She stood up, walked halfway to the door, and turned back around, marching towards him without any obvious change in pace.

"Let's get something straight, Sanji-kun," she said quietly. "You can pamper me. You can call me princess. Shower me with compliments. But the moment we are alone, we are playing _my game_. I don't care if you've gotten tens of hundreds of girls this way—in fact, I shudder to possibly be one of them. I do care what you will do and say when we are alone, though. And that will define if you are 'my type' or not."

It was quiet then, for a few moments. He could hear his new crew outside of the galley door, shouting and hollering. For a moment it sounded like fireworks were going off…

He shook his head, attempting to focus on the matters on hand. Maybe if he cleared things up for her? Yes, that might work…

"Listen, Miss Nami-san…" he said almost halfheartedly. "Can we start over? Forget that this ever came up? Forget I've met you before? We can start over, if you want."

She looked dubious for a moment, before sticking out her hand. "Who are you again? I can't seem to recall. My name is Nami, although you are permitted to call me _Miss _Nami-san."

Sanji smiled at the emphasis on 'miss.'

"It is very nice to meet such a beautiful lady such as yourself," he said smoothly. "I am Sanji."

"Pleasure," she said.

"It's all mine," he fired back. "It's all mine…"

--

**A/N:** This chapter ends in a completely platonic manner on Nami's side. After all, it's only the first time! There will be more!

Chapters will be slowed, as I have two, three previous engagements. I apologize, first of all, if you are a AMtHGF reader that is waiting for the 9th chapter. (It takes a while to write those long chapters…!)

VM


	2. Night Two: Frozen Cookies and Flan

**A/N: **I AM SO SORRY FOR THE LACK OF UPDATES! AH! MY GOSH! Last update was in _October_? That's over a half-year ago. And it's only the second chapter. –_beats head against wall_-

This night takes place a few days before we reach Loguetown (is that how you spell it…?). Hope you enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _One Piece_. E. Oda does.

--

**Special Nights**

**Night Two: Frozen Cookies and Flan**

**By VirgoMaiden**

--

The second night was only two days later, a bit before they were supposed to reach Loguetown, and the coffee was slightly bitter.

Resentful of that, he was currently standing in the kitchen with her sitting behind him, watching him as he made her coffee and leftover cookies. One of the things that he learned about her was that she disliked people touching her food, so she often watched it being prepared.

"What's the sweet tonight, Sanji-kun?" she called out behind him, and he stiffened, trying to hide the fact that he hadn't been as ready as he could have been when she had shown up at the galley door half-an-hour earlier.

"Frozen cookies," he said, sliding the plate in front of her, soon joining it with a cup of coffee. (He was running low on sugar; not that he was going to tell her that)

She raised her eyebrow and looked at him. "Is this one of your more subtle ways of telling me that we're out of sugar?" she asked.

He shrugged, although she had almost hit the nail right on the head. "Not quite, Miss Nami-san," he said.

She shrugged and took a tentative bite of her cookie, holding her hand out underneath her mouth in case of crumbs. "We'll have to go shopping then, when we arrive at Loguetown."

It was quiet for a beat, until Sanji lunged across the table, his arms held out to embrace her. "_Mellorine_ - !"

She clocked him on the head with her plate easily, making a resounding _clang_ in the room. Cookies flew everywhere, and she sipped her coffee as Sanji lay on the ground.

"My Mellorine wants to go _shopping _with me!" he sung, his arms outstretched on the ground. "With me!"

Nami rolled her eyes. "Although I'm seriously reconsidering it now," she muttered.

Sanji sat up and climbed back into his chair. "You can't!" he gasped. "After hitting me with the plate…!"

She slammed the cup down onto the table and shot a steely glare at him. "Can we drop it?" she asked. "I'm growing tired of this conversation."

"Consider it finished," he said, holding his hand up, his eyes closed in a scout-like manner.

She smiled and sat back in her chair. "That's what I thought."

"Then what may we talk about, Miss Nami-san?" Sanji asked. "It would be a shame to be sitting in such close proximity with a gorgeous lady such as yourself and to not take advantage of it."

She shot him a warning glare – obviously taking the line as a perverted mean – and he held his hand up. "I mean to talk!" he said. "Being the intelligent woman that you are, you can surely think of an ideal conversation topic."

She smirked. "Then while I think of a topic, I'll require you to get me another treat. Can you do that?" she asked.

"Of course, Miss Nami-san!"

Sanji rose hurriedly, gathering the cookies, and making his way to the fridge.

_Low on sugar… Do we have 4 teaspoons?_

"Let's talk about the All Blue, Sanji-kun," Nami said over her shoulder.

"That's fine with me," Sanji said, taking out a saucer and pan.

_Salt, vanilla extract, eggs…_

"Why do you think that finding the All Blue is so important to you?"

He smiled, even though she couldn't see it, thinking of how she would have known this, had she not stolen the _Going Merry._

_Condensed milk, regular milk, one tablespoon water…_

"It is the one place that all serious cooks of the world go," he said, breaking the eggs into a large bowl quickly. "The place where all the seas of the world meet up… The place where you can find all fish."

Nami turned around in her chair, giving his back a "look." "Fish? That's all that's important about it? The way you talk about it, it seems that it'd be as important as…"

"One Piece?" he asked. "It's almost like that, to a serious chef. See, it's supposed to look like heaven. Heaven on Earth. The sea is always clear, the sun shining… There are islands scattered about, reportedly, and they're apparently the best in the world.

"And it's legendary. People have been, but they aren't alive to tell. There are reports of the place, sure… but it's almost been forgotten by history. It's so wonderful that the people there –''

"Don't ever want to leave?" Nami asked, smiling. "Yeah. I get the feeling."

Sanji began to coat a bowl with the sugar that he had melted a bit ago. "What is Cocoyashi like?" he asked.

"Before or after Arlong?" Nami asked.

"Before."

She took a deep breath. "Everyone knew everyone – it was a typical East Blue town that way. It was a mile or two away from a popular retreat, so we had attention, although it wasn't much. That didn't matter, though, since the town was so much nicer when it wasn't crowded. It was quiet. The kind of quiet that inspired great thinkers, great ideas. I usually disrupted that quiet," she laughed shortly. "And then Ginzo, and Bellemere, and then Nojiko, and then the doctor…"

Sanji set the bowl on a shallow tray with water. "Sounds like everyone was a nice family," he said.

He couldn't see Nami's face anymore, but her voice sounded bitter: "That's why they all took the chance to sacrifice themselves for me when Arlong took over. Bellemere was dead, and so Ginzo and the others thought that they had to compensate. Of course – I wasn't all that loved; many people disliked me for helping Arlong."

"That's ridiculous!" Sanji said harshly, sliding the pan into the oven. "You had no choice in the matter!"

"Yes, I did," she said quietly. "I could have told Arlong that I didn't want to make him maps – that I would rather die. But then, he offered me all of the money… and then, later on, the opportunity to buy back the village… It was my own selfishness that allowed him to have the power that he did."

Sanji was in front of Nami in a second, kneeling on the floor and looking at her seriously in the eye.

"Miss Nami-san," he said. "Everyone on this ship is selfish in some way. Luffy ate a Devil Fruit and led Shanks to a Sea King. Zoro would not allow himself to be beaten by anyone, almost resulting in his death. Usopp is still very selfish! He and Luffy rat each other out all the time!"

She smiled wryly at him. "And you, Sanji-kun, are above all of us?"

He snorted. "Hardly; Zeff gave me all of the food we had for forty days and I still wanted more. I almost killed him to get it."

"How nice of you to join us then, Sanji-kun," Nami said sarcastically.

It was quiet for a beat again when Sanji suddenly stood up, startling Nami, his hands on his cheeks, his eyes in the shape of hearts, swooning. "Ah, Mellorine! I have joined you at last! Now, let us embrace - !"

He jumped forward and was stopped by the – once again – outstretched plate.

"NO," she said flatly.

He sighed in defeat and lifted himself off of the table, taking care to pinch the bridge of his nose where the bleeding had most likely started.

_But if it's from my Mellorine, then it is divine,_ he thought, sliding the pan out of the oven when the timer went off.

He heard the chair scrape against the floor boards as he took a knife and began to cut the flan away from the bowl and into a cup.

"What's that?" Nami asked, poking her head around his shoulder. He almost squealed in glee at their close proximity, but resisted; he had to show Nami that he could handle being in her presence.

"Flan," he said, and scooped some cream onto the top. "And the finishing touch," he muttered to himself, taking out a tangerine, stabbing it quickly, and squeezing it so that some juice fell on top of the dessert.

"Here you are, Miss Nami-san," he said, handing her the cup and a spoon. "_La quiche de mandarine."_

She smiled and made her way back to her seat. "Looks good," she said, sitting down.

_Wait until you taste it, _he thought. He would have normally spoken that part aloud, but he had remembered their last talk.

Sure enough, as she put the first bite into her mouth, her eyes grew wide and she looked over at Sanji, who was sitting in his chair, cup of coffee in one hand.

"Delicious," she said carefully, as if the slightest word might set him off again (and it would have – it was good as an excuse to try to hug Nami-san). "You keep on surprising me, Sanji-kun."

_As if I would ever let you down,_ he thought while she took another bite.

The flan was eaten quickly, and as soon as the screams outside from Luffy and Usopp (and, unless he was mistaken, _explosions_) began to subside, Nami stood up and began to stretch her arms to the ceiling.

Not wanted to be caught looking at her chest, he quickly grabbed her cup and made his way over to the sink, beginning to wash it out.

"I'll be going to bed, then," she said, and made her way over to the door.

But instead of the sound of the door opening and closing, her heels stopped.

"Thank you, Sanji-kun," she said.

He turned around. "For what?" he asked. Was the flan so appreciated…?

A smile tugged one of the corners of her mouth. "You know what," she said, and made her way into the night.

--

**A/N:** I hurried the recipe for flan, I know (it takes 40 minutes to cook in the oven and then about 3 hours to freeze), but I didn't have the time for that. I just wanted to introduce the next treat.

Also, let it be noted that this story – while not as important as AMtHGF (or one of my other non-OP stories) will take longer to write, as there is some planning involved.

VM


	3. Night Three: Rainbow Gelatin

**A/N: **Excuses? See below.

Takes place after meeting Laboon.

**(Last) Disclaimer: **You can see the two previous chapters.

--

**Special Nights**

**Night Three: Rainbow Gelatin**

**By VirgoMaiden**

--

Their next night together was when they were returning Miss Wednesday and Mr. 9 to their island. Nami was slowly getting used to the Lock Post, but she still stumbled into the occasional problem, so it was no wonder that she had been very tense lately.

Sanji was currently cleaning the fish that he had won at the cooking contest in Logue Town. Nami was sitting on the counter, next to him, watching him with a disgusted sort of interest. She was avoiding looking at the fish face at all costs.

"Next question," she said. "Why did you want to become a chef in the first place?" She had been quizzing him about his life pre - Mugiwara crew for about half an hour (so far) that night, starting when she had walked through the door saying that she needed a pre-bed drink.

"You mean before the _Baratie_?" he asked.

She nodded. "What was the appeal of the job?"

He smiled and took a quick drag of his cigarette (he had cut back to only four cigarettes when he was in front of her – a huge accomplishment for him, although she still wheedled him to quit). "None, actually; I _was_ working as a cabin boy on the ship that Zeff had attacked – the _Carlotta_ – and I had been transferred to the kitchen – as a chef-in-training – after I had some issues with some of the passengers."

"So from there you liked the kitchen."

"Kind of." He paused and took another drag, thinking. "See, I _originally_ had wanted to become a captain of my own cruise ship. Before I had heard of the All Blue. (I had heard of the All Blue from one of the passengers.)"

"So you _didn't _want to be a chef?" Nami asked, almost incredulously.

He nodded. "Hai, Miss Nami-san," he said. "And besides, the pay for a cabin boy was much better than for a kitchen boy."

"You were supporting yourself at such a young age?"

"Yes; my father had run off with a woman that he worked with when I was five. When I was eleven, my mother sat me on a bench in front of a pharmacy and came out in police custody."

"She was arrested?" Nami was clearly shocked; above all of the shipmates, Sanji had seemed to have the nicest home life (compared to Usopp and Luffy's absentee fathers, her stint with Arlong, and …. Well, she didn't want to know what had happened to Zoro's parents). She had clearly expected a stay-at-home mom and a working, devoted father.

Well, his mother was staying "home," all right.

He nodded, making it seem like he didn't mind so much. "Attempted robbery and had assaulted an officer of the Marines. She got twelve years."

She should get out soon, right?" she asked.

He looked up, almost as if just realizing it. "In about four years," he said. "Maybe three." He looked down again and began to use the knife to peel the skin off the fish. "I don't think about it too much."

"Why not?"

He looked up at Nami. Her brow was furrowed and it occurred to him that even an intelligent, beautiful woman like herself couldn't understand why he did many of the things that he did.

"First of all, because I thought that doing so would be pitying myself, and my entire life, my mother had constantly reminded me that we were lucky. Even after my old man left. She had raised me to refuse all signs of sympathy, pity, and charity while giving more than was expected.

"Second of all, because I thought that they wouldn't let me go back to her after she got out. That they'd put me in some shitty orphanage."

"So it was your pride?" Nami asked.

"You could say that."

"Do you keep in contact with her?"

"I occasionally write to her," he said. "Once a month since meeting Zeff. She sends me one about every…week?"

"How the heck do you get them?" Nami asked. "Sanji, we're in the middle of the Grand Line!"

"I have my ways," he said, smiling.

She rolled her eyes. "Of course you do," she said.

It was quiet for a few minutes after that, and Sanji had just wrapped up the old skins and put them in the refrigerator (he could do things with those skins that most people couldn't believe) and had begun to clean his knife when she spoke again.

"What was her name?"

"Annette," he said without looking up.

"Do you have a picture?"

Sanji wanted to smile, considering this was the first interest she had had in him, but didn't, as it was a serious subject.

"Yes," he said. "It's somewhere in my bag. I'll show it to you sometime, if you like."

"I _would_ like," Nami said, and swung one leg over the other, revealing her brand new sandals.

"Those are nice," he said as he began to cut the fish into 4 – by – 6 – inch pieces.

"Oh, these?" She sounded as if she hadn't noticed that he had noticed the shoes, but he heard the underlying tone of pride. "Thank you. I managed to get them from 1750 Beli to 650."

"You're so smart, Nami-swan!" Sanji said, turning towards her, adoration in his eyes. "We need to go shopping together some time!"

"Clothes shopping, you mean?" Nami smirked.

"Next time we go ashore. Whiskey Peak should have a nice shopping district, don't you think?"

"Miss Wednesday-chan seems fashionable," Sanji said, thinking about their blue-haired charge.

"If she shops there at all," Nami said (he didn't detect any jealousy tone…did she not care if he mentioned other women in her presence?). "Now, shouldn't you have a treat for me tonight, Sanji-kun?"

Sanji beamed and quickly washed his hands as to get rid of the fish-scent. "Only the best for my dear Mellorine!" he said loudly, and pulled out a tall glass and long spoon out of the refrigerator.

"Ta-da!" he said proudly, holding the glass before her at eye-level. "What do you think, Nami-san?"

Before her in a tall, soda fountain glass was rainbow gelatin, arranged in the usual ROY G. BIV fashion. There was a layer of whipped cream at the top, and a red cherry above _that_.

She raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. "Is each flavor a color?" she asked, taking the glass and spoon from him, inspecting the treat from all sides.

"Hai," Sanji said, and began to warp up the remaining fish up in a deep-set pan. "Red is cherry, orange is orange, yellow is lemon, green is lime, blue is blue raspberry, indigo is blueberry, and violet is grape."

"No mikan theme today?" Nami asked, tentatively scooping up a bit of the cream, disturbing the even layer.

"Would you prefer tangerine gelatin?" Sanji asked, closing the refrigerator and grabbing his lukewarm cup of coffee (his turn for watch was tonight).

"I'm fine, Sanji-kun," Nami said, digging towards the second layer of color (she was eating it quickly, he noticed with pride – it was good that she had a healthy appetite). "Right now, don't pay any attention to me."

"I could never do that to you, Mellorine," Sanji said, looking at her for the second time that night with his "love-love eyes" (named "ero-eyes" by Zoro).

She scoffed. "Why am I not surprised," he heard her mutter.

It was quiet in the kitchen after that, the only sounds being the _clank_ of the spoon Nami was using on the cup and the _slurp_ of Sanji enjoying his coffee (the first of many to come that night).

"Tell me more about your childhood."

Sanji looked up, his gaze having been focused - -unintentionally – on Nami's new shoes. "Before or after Zeff?" he asked.

"After," Nami said. "Tell me why you decided to be a chef."

"Hm," Sanji said, sliding into his pants pocket and grasping the lighter in there. "There was the All Blue that was my main inspiration, but… there were some other reasons," he murmured, looking now into his cup of coffee. He looked up. "I started working at the Baratie right after my rescue. I worked in the kitchen to satisfy Zeff, mainly. I would have rather been out there with the people after getting off the island where I had seen only the Old Geezer. But I didn't. So. Yeah. At first I thought that working there would repay my debt to him, but I slowly began to realize that I liked it there, under his thumb. I picked up smoking around that time."

Nami made a disapproving sound, but didn't interrupt.

"His kitchen grew on me. Making all of the food every day… Well, it was more than I had been doing on the _Carlotta_, that's for sure. And making that food every day made me think of it as an art; turning a person's day around in just a few bites, a few minutes. Food is therapeutic like that. I also liked how I personally was the one turning the day around. It just strengthened my resolve to become a chef."

"Therapeutic, eh?" Nami asked, scraping the bottom of the glass. "Well, that certainly has some merit to it." She sighed and slid off the counter. "It's ten-thirty now," she said absently, and then turned to Sanji.

"Good night, Sanji-kun," she said. She made her way to the door before turning around and looking at him seriously.

"I want to see that picture, Sanji," she said, and closed the door behind her.

Sanji smiled and began cleaning her glass.

--

**A/N:** _Hand_ written a day after I posted the last one. Delayed because I got back from vacation (three week vacation, mind you) yesterday. Apologies if I messed up Sanji's background. If pointed out (nicely, please), then I'll be sure to fix it. The next chapter's being worked on as well. _AMtHGF_… well, it's going more quickly, that's for sure.

VM


	4. Night Four: Medicine and Mikan Tea

**A/N:** Hey guys… *waves awkwardly* It's been a while, huh? A few…months, or something? Maybe close to a year? Over a year. Close to three? Wow. Um… I hope that this makes up for a third the wait. I'm going to try to crank something out sooner. Hope you enjoy! As a refresher, this chapter takes place just before Nami gets sick (and Chopper is introduced).

**Disclaimer:** Eiichiro Oda is the creator of One Piece. If I owned One Piece, not only would the series have whittled away by now (See this fic as an example), but Sanji and Nami would have gotten together a _long _time ago.

**Special Nights**

**Night Four: Medicine and Mikan Tea**

**By VirgoMaiden**

It was their fourth night "together," and besides a tradition being informally born, Nami was complaining of a headache.

She sat at the table, head in her hands, pretending to be absorbed in a new map while Sanji bustled around the kitchen around her. She knew from the way he was gingerly handling the dishes he was washing that he was trying to be sensitive to the fact that little tiny elves were hammering on the inside of her head. She felt like her head was going to burst.

He came up behind her. "Miss Nami-san," he said slowly, "Would you like some medicine?"

She looked up at him weakly, squinting because the light was directly behind him giving him a halo effect. She groaned and turned back to the map. "Yes please," she said faintly.

Sanji scuttled over to the cabinet under the sink, where he pulled out a small, white metal box with a red cross on it that reminded her of a lunchbox. She watched as he sorted through bandages, gauze, a set of tweezers and tiny scissors before coming up with a bottle of pills.

"Here, Miss Nami," Sanji said as he handed her the bottle. She took it gratefully and had swallowed two pills dry before Sanji had the chance to ask if she wanted a glass of water. She gave a light cough before turning back to the map in front of her, smoothing down the edges.

"Would you like anything else?" Sanji asked carefully, watching her with trepidation. She looked pale, and he wondered if she had been getting enough sleep. Ever since Luffy had volunteered the crew to help take Princess Vivi back to Alabasta, Nami had undergone enormous amounts of stress in trying to chart the fastest route possible. Time was of the utmost importance, she knew, and every day she was out on deck checking on the Going Merry's progress.

But if Nami wasn't feeling well, she certainly wasn't telling anybody. So Sanji had taken it upon himself to watch out for her health himself.

Nami licked her lips (_They have to be chapped, _Sanji thought) and peered up at him. There appeared to be faint circles under her eyes and Sanji felt his heart swell for the pitiful-looking creature that was Miss Nami-san.

"Mikan tea," she said shortly.

Sanji nodded.

"You don't know how to make it, do you?" she asked.

Sanji nodded again and Nami sighed before pushing away from the table and standing up.

"Come on, then," she said. "I'll tell you how to make it this once, but you'll have to memorize it for next time."

As the two shuffled around the kitchen, Nami explained that mikan tea was another Bellemere special of her childhood; her beloved stepmother had made it for her and Nojiko whenever they were fighting off any kind of illness. The vitamins in the mikan, she explained, gave their immune systems an important boost, and continued she to rattle off the other special properties of the mikan as Sanji bustled around the kitchen, trying to make it according to her (incredibly specific) directions.

"No, not _three _mikan," Nami scolded, leaning around him as he began juicing the fruits. "_Four_. How else would we get enough of the vitamins to be able to stave off sickness?"

" 'We'?" Sanji asked, one curly eyebrow raised. Her pronoun choice surprised him.

Nami rolled her eyes. "Of course," she snapped. "It's for you, too. I've seen the way that you've been running around lately. You don't have as much energy. That's bad news when you're chasing around me and Vivi."

"Why don't you sit down?" he asked, trying to be as courteous as possible. "You look tired, Miss Nami-san," he added, hoping to inquire about her health.

Nami didn't buy the bait; instead she rolled her eyes. "Nice try, Sanji, but you're not getting rid of me _that_ easily. Did you remember to heat the water to 101.3 degrees?"

"Ye-es, Miss Nami-swan," Sanji chanted back, shooting her an adoring look as he scuttled back to the stove, to the simmering water. "_Just _as you said. Don't worry, I have _everything _under control."

There was a pause, as Nami gave Sanji a scrutinizing look; then, satisfied with whatever progress he seemed to make, she grudgingly took a seat at the kitchen table.

There was silence in the room as Nami shuffled through her maps once more, calmly taking notes on certain positions and ports. Every time that Sanji looked back at her from his work, she seemed to be bent over the parchment further and further until he could tell that he nose was practically scraping across the parchment.

Her face looked pained, so without a word, Sanji casually walked over to the galley lights where he threw a switch and effectively turned the lights down to a bare minimum.

Confused, Nami's head turned up. Her face was scrunched up (_so _adorably, Sanji thought automatically) as she looked around the galley, trying to regain her bearings. "What did you do that for?" she snapped, her face starting to relax. "Now I can barely see."

"Sooorry, Miss Nami-san," Sanji said, rushing over to where she sat, leaving the juicer perched precariously on the edge of the counter. "I just thought that the light was hurting you."

"…What made you think that?" Nami's voice was suspicious. Either he had hit the nail on the head, he thought, or she thought that he was trying to make a move on her.

"Your beautiful face was just _all _scrunched up, and you looked like you were in pain. And, you were leaning into your parchment."

"So maybe my eyes hurt," Nami said stiffly, unwilling to accept Sanji's efforts towards her. She could feel that his advances were nothing like his usual pampering.

"Because the light was too bright and you couldn't concentrate," Sanji fired back, and Nami was surprised at the fact that he was _arguing _with her. Politely, of course, but she wasn't used to him having a backbone whenever they interacted.

There was an uncomfortable pause; Nami sat at her maps like a guilty child.

"How much sleep have you been getting lately?" Sanji asked suddenly.

Nami jumped at the question. "Uh… six hours," she replied automatically, before realizing that that was the wrong answer. "I mean, eight!" she cried, seeing his judgmental expression. She nearly stood up in indignation. "_Eight _hours a night!"

Sanji looked at her carefully, digesting the information, and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat before she saw him turn around and go back to the juicer.

Even in the dimmed light, Sanji was able to continue his work without interruption, and Nami found that she, too, was able to read her maps without too much difficulty. The fact that it was quite dark didn't bother her nearly as much as the bright galley lights had. Light of any kind was bad. Dark was good, though, and she found herself settling deeper into her seat, her eyes slowly closing.

She was on the verge of falling completely asleep when she was startled by the shrill whistle of the tea kettle. She watched as Sanji moved from spot to spot along the counter of the kitchen, as he took the temperature of the water, stirred the mikan juice into the water, and ran back to the cupboard to take out two coffee mugs.

Her attentions did not go unnoticed by Sanji, who began working with a spring in his step, knowing that his Mellorine was watching and found him and his work fascinating. Why, maybe he could suggest some "private" cooking lessons, just for the two of them…

"Whatever you're thinking - _no."_

Nami's voice rang out across the kitchen, and Sanji noticed belatedly that he had been standing at the counter, water in one hand and mug in the other with a drooling expression on his face.

(Sometimes he wished that he wasn't _so _transparent. His daydreams were usually quite short for that reason.)

Almost as an afterthought, Sanji added a pinch of cinnamon to Nami's mug.

As soon as he set the mug down in front of her, she gave him an aggravated look. She had noticed the deviation immediately.

"Cinnamon, Sanji?" she asked skeptically. "I specifically said no –''

"Just try it, Mellorine," Sanji said quietly. "Trust me."

Nami shot him a look that read _"Of course I don't trust you fiddling around with my dead mother's recipes, what kind of person do you take me for?" _but took a slow sip nonetheless. There was a beat, and then, almost reluctantly, she took another, longer one.

"Do you like it?" he asked tentatively.

"…It's an interesting mix," Nami finally managed to say quietly. "The cinnamon and… and the mikan."

Sanji beamed. "I thought that, since it was tea, it deserved something more," he said, sitting down in the seat next to her.

They sat in silence for the next few minutes, both sipping their tea. Sanji found himself getting drowsier and drowsier, and he noticed that Nami was moving about a bit sluggishly herself. Clearly the medicine paired with the tea had created a potent combination.

"Are you feeling all right?" he asked suddenly. In the time that he had known Nami, he hadn't noticed any decrease in energy from her. She was always at 100 percent (although not as enthusiastic as their "dear captain"), and if she wasn't feeling well she never let it show. (Bad moods were one thing, he thought, thinking of how she had earlier strung Luffy up the sails when he had spilled something on her newest map. But illness was another.)

"Yes," Nami said automatically. "I'm all fine here."

"You don't seem fine."

"What does it matter?" she asked irritably. "It isn't like we can take a break from all this," she said, waving her hand around the galley. "We have to get to Alabasta and help Vivi. That's our first priority."

Sanji sighed. "Yes, but Mellorine, your health is just as important –''

"I am in _perfect _health, thank you," Nami said shortly. "That medicine and this tea has done the trick. I feel wonderful. Vitamins were all that I needed to bounce back. This body hasn't had a sick day in ten years, so I don't know why I should start now."

"That's precisely _why _you should start now," Sanji said. He gave Nami an earnest look, peering out from under his long hair that gave Nami the shivers. "Good food can only do so much to help the body. Rest is just as important."

"Sickness is weakness," Nami shot back, pushing away from the table suddenly and collecting her maps together. "And I have no time for weakness," she added, standing up. She gave Sanji a withering look before tucking her maps under one arm and taking her mug in the other.

Before she left the room, he heard her add quietly, "No one does."

**A/N: **Is this a cliff hanger? I don't know, maybe I'm just leaving you all hanging a bit. The next chapter should be up soonish. (But actually, I'm not just saying that. :p)

If anyone is still reading this, they deserve a medal.


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